Patricia Davids - His New Amish Family

Her weary expression changed to a look of fierce determination. She squared her shoulders and rose to her feet. “I’ll be very old and gray before that happens. Go and do my cousin’s evil bidding. Make an inventory. Find out how much this place is worth so I’ll know how much the two of you are stealing from my babies.”

“I’m not stealing anything.” Her sudden change of mood took him by surprise. Angry mama cat was back and spitting mad.

“You are if you help him! Get out!”

He made a hasty retreat to the front door and out onto the porch. He turned back to her, hoping to make her see reason. “I have a job to do.”

“Then do it without my blessing.” She slammed the door shut in his face.

* * *

Clara leaned her back against the closed door and took several deep calming breaths. Her heart hammered in her chest. She could feel the blood pounding in her temples. Allowing herself to become so upset served no purpose.

“What’s wrong, Mamm?” Toby asked from the living-room doorway.

“Nothing.” She moved to peek out the kitchen window. Paul was standing on the porch looking stunned. She wished she knew what he was thinking. One minute, he seemed compassionate and caring, tempting her to trust him. In the next breath, he said he was going to sell the property for Ralph as if that was the way things had to be.

It wasn’t. She would find a way to stop them.

Her actions today ran contrary to her Amish upbringing and she was ashamed of that, ashamed her children had witnessed her behaving like a shrew. She had made a serious accusation against Ralph that she couldn’t substantiate. Not unless she found the papers she knew had to exist.

Ralph possessed few, if any, scruples. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to trick or cheat an Amish family member out of money. This time it wasn’t just about money; it was about Sophie’s life.

Eli had wanted Clara to sell the farm when he was gone and use the funds to help Sophie. He had been a dear, kind man and she missed him deeply. She folded her hands together and sent up a quick prayer that God would be merciful to her and her children and allow her to grant Eli his final wish.

She went to search her uncle’s bedroom next. She found a suit of clothes and his straw hat hanging on pegs. His work boots were sitting beside the bed on a blue oval rag rug, where he always kept them. It was hard to imagine he would never put them on again and tromp mud across her fresh-scrubbed floors. Brushing away a tear, she searched the single chest of drawers without success.

There was nothing in her bedroom or the children’s rooms. She searched the kitchen and finally the large ornate bible cabinet in the living room. It contained only the family’s oversized three-hundred-year-old German bible and a few keepsakes. There was nowhere else to look unless she got a ladder and went up to the attic. She couldn’t imagine her uncle putting important papers where they would be so hard to access.

“Mamm, I’m hungry. Can I have a cookie?” Sophie asked.

“I don’t have any cookies but I think I can find a Popsicle for you and Toby.” Eli always kept a large box of assorted flavors in the freezer for the children.

The freezer compartment of the kitchen’s propane-powered refrigerator turned out to be completely filled with frozen meals in plastic containers, all neatly labeled. The members of the church had made sure that she and the children would be taken care of when they returned. Clara took a moment to give thanks for the wonderful caring people in her uncle’s congregation.

She found the box of Popsicles and gave each child their favorite flavor, then put out a container of spaghetti and meatballs to thaw for supper.

A knock at the door sent Toby rushing to open it. “Hi, Paul. You don’t have to knock. You can just come in. Want a Popsicle? Grape ones are the best.”

Paul stood on the porch with his straw hat in his hand. “ Danki , Toby, but not today. I wanted to let your mother know I was leaving. I checked the generator and it’s got fuel.”

Clara moved to stand behind Toby. “Danki.”

She had forgotten to do that. Because the Amish did not allow electricity in their homes, Eli had gotten permission from his bishop to use a generator to supply the electricity for the blue lights Sophie needed. Eli had taken charge of keeping it running but she would have to do that from now on. She battled with her conscience for a moment but knew she couldn’t lie. “The generator belonged to Eli. You should add it to the farm equipment inventory.”

“I’ll try to remember but I’m a forgetful fellow. It might not make the list. I’ll be back tomorrow. Is there anything you and the children need before I go?”

She hated to ask him but Sophie’s health was more important than her false pride. “Would you start the generator so I can make sure the lights come on?”

“Of course.” He started to turn away.

“May I come with you?” Toby asked.

Paul looked over his shoulder. “Sure thing. I can always use an extra hand. Come on.”

The two of them had the generator started in a few minutes. Upstairs, Clara was relieved to see the lights come on when she flipped the switch. Eight blue fluorescent-light tubes were suspended above Sophie’s bed by a wooden canopy that could be raised and lowered with a chain. Mirrors on the headboard, footboard and one side of the bed reflected the light all around her. Sophie hated sleeping under the lights. Clara let her go to bed with her favorite blanket each night but once she was asleep, Clara had to take it away so the light touched as much of her skin as possible.

After she was sure the lights were all working, Clara went downstairs. Paul was standing outside the kitchen door again. “Does it function as it should?”

“The lights all came on. Thank you for making sure the generator would run.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked down at Toby. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I might need someone to help me list all the machinery on the place. That is, if your mother doesn’t mind.”

Toby turned pleading eyes in her direction. “You don’t mind if I help Paul, do you?”

She didn’t want Paul coming back but he would in spite of her wishes. Telling her son he couldn’t help would only hurt Toby.

“You can as long as you finish your own chores first,” she conceded.

“I will.” The happiness in her son’s eyes relieved some of her reservations. He had taken a liking to the auctioneer.

Paul patted the boy on the head and smiled at her. “See you tomorrow then.”

The man had a smile that could melt a woman’s heart. Unless she kept a close guard on it, and Clara always kept a close guard on hers. Her life was filled with complications she wasn’t sure she could manage. Adding one more was out of the question. She closed the front door as he walked away and then began sorting through the pile of mail waiting for her.

Paul did have a nice smile. She remembered the sound of his laughter when she produced the crowbar and how gentle he had been when he talked to Toby about losing his father.

And this absurd line of thinking only proved how tired she was when a man’s simple act of kindness had her thinking he was someone special. After a good night’s sleep, she was sure she wouldn’t find Paul Bowman half as attractive the next time she saw him.

Chapter Three

Early the following morning while the children were still asleep, Clara walked down the road a quarter of a mile to the community phone shack shared by the Amish families who lived in her uncle’s area.

The small building that housed the phone and message machine was only six feet by six feet. It was painted a soft blue color and had large windows on two sides to let in the light. A solar panel on the roof provided electricity for the message machine. Inside was a narrow counter across one wall, where writing utensils and paper sat along with a copy of the local phone book.